


Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore

by retrovertigo (ellameno)



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Asexual Newton Geiszler, Asexuality Spectrum, Autistic Newton Geiszler, Bisexuality, Canon Compliant, Cardiophilia, Comfort/Angst, Deleted Scenes, Drift Side Effects, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Ghost Drifting, Hearing Voices, Heartbeat Kink, Heartbeats, Hive Mind, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mind Control, Neck Kissing, Soulmates, Touch-Starved, True Love, Trust, Unresolved Emotional Tension, cute shit scattered amongst existential terror, fighting mind control, reunited and it feels so weird, tense menacing evil villain dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 03:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14228412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellameno/pseuds/retrovertigo
Summary: To Newt's horror, Hermann finally works up the courage to accept his estranged ex-lab partner's invitation.This is The Dinner Scene that explained a few things that was deleted from Pacific Rim Uprising for being too intense for general audiences.





	Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> HEY REALLY PROUD OF THIS DANG THING, kind of out of my normal realm of feel good fluff but I felt like I had a duty to write this, because I absolutely LIVE for tense menacing dinner scenes in media and I had so much fun. I have a lot of FEELINGS about where this movie went, and I'm coping, and this is what made the most sense to me while existing inside what the movie set up. 
> 
> This is written to be movie canon compliant while also able to exist in the same world as my other Pacific Rim fics. You do not have to accept this as canon for either though, it's up to you.
> 
>  **Warnings:** Mentions of addiction, drinking to excess, and the concept of sex. Mind control (obviously). And angst.  
>  Sex repulsed peeps, go to End Note for spoilers regarding sexual content. IT GETS SAUCY. The first and maybe last of its kind.
> 
> Added disclaimer: Hello, I am ace and autistic and my projection is not a stereotype, do not fear, saying the two influence each other would be as absurd as me saying my bad leg made me trans.

        "Newton. Wait,” the voice echoed down the hall, accompanied by the uneven rhythm of loafers and a cane.

        _Shit. It's him._ Newt’s evasive maneuvers weren’t as ‘super suave spy’ as he’d believed.

        "Wait up, _damn you,_ " Hermann continued. Newt turned to see his former labmate and once drift partner hobbling down the halls, his limp more pronounced than ever.

        Newt had to get rid of him somehow. _They_ insisted little to no contact with the physicist, for reasons unknown. But he had his suspicions. Hermann was an obvious _distraction._

        "Yeah. Sorry, pal, it's been real, but I can't talk. I'm busy as--"

        "I know," Hermann said, stopping in front of him, slightly winded. "But." His eyes flashed up. "What are you doing tonight?"

        "Uhhhhh... what-- _why?"_

        "Does the dinner offer still stand?"

        Newt bit his lip and stared for a moment. "The what now?"

        "Dinner. With you and Alice. I'd..." Hermann lifted his chin with purpose. "You know, I would very much like that. I've been so... cooped up and..."

        "Yeah. Uh.  _Mmn._ " Newt wagged a finger. "Alice, she's actually out of town."

        "Out of town? But you just said--"

        "Emergency business. You know how it is." Sweat beaded on the nape of Newt's neck while he prayed he hadn’t backed himself into a corner. _God damn_ that's gonna cause a stain isn't it-- and this is _fucking Armani._

        "Ah. Well. Might I come over, to keep you company?"

        "Um... I mean-- it'd be pretty boring--"

        " _Boring?_ Newton... we spent years in a tiny room together, it’d almost be novel to share that again. I just... I want time with you." Hermann stared with his gorgeous brown eyes, the ones that Newt spent fifteen years getting lost in. "I miss you."

        _You have no excuse. Find one._

        "I just wanted a quiet night -- some _Newt time_ , if you catch my drift -- my boss is just _up my ass..._ "

        "C-Course. Um. Tomorrow perhaps?"

        "No..." Newt gave an uneasy chortle. "No, no. I just... _You know how it is.._." he repeated vaguely.

        Hermann's face trembled as he tried to give an understanding smile through utter confusion. It plunged a knife into Newt's gut.

        Newt had been waiting for years for Hermann to call his bluff. To deduce that this ‘serious girlfriend’ named Alice was just a ruse -- one forced upon him by the Precursors, demanding a way to shut down any interpersonal advances. The name itself was a _dog-whistle_ of sorts. Newt was as straight as a rainbow, and he thought Hermann knew that as an unshakable truth. And yet Hermann just accepted the lie... and distanced himself awkwardly from pursuing anything with the man he once shared a mind with.

        And _Hermann_ … He had become so strong, so soft, so everything Newt had ever wanted him to be... though Newt had wanted _him_ from day one. And now it seemed like Hermann wanted him back, opening his arms, hoping Newt would run to them, and yet Newt had to cast him away. _For safety._ Hermann's life had been singled out and threatened by the things slowly eroding Newt’s mind, their thrall growing stronger and stronger with every chase of the RABIT. Memories where Newt didn’t feel so completely alone. Happier times with the man he loved, who was currently so close yet so far.

        God, look at his face. Hermann’s heart was breaking. In real time.

        "No. _No._ You know what. _Screw it._ Come over tomorrow," Newt blurted out in a rare moment of _clarity_.

        In a flash, life returned to Hermann's lined face. "R... Really?"

        _Really?_ nagged the voice in his brain.

        "Yeah, yeah."

        _If Hermann is alienated... there is no unconditional ally in times of need,_ Newt reasoned. Or maybe that was the aliens in his head rationalizing it.

        "Oh. Oh, Newt." Hermann beamed, his chest swelling, like he'd won a prestigious award. "I would love that."

        More flies with honey. Right?

        ---

        “Heyyyy, Hermann,” Newt greeted as he flung the door open, operating on autopilot as he usually did these days. “Welcome, welcome to my humble abode.”

        Hermann stood in the doorway, clutching a gift bag, his expression puzzled as if he'd knocked on the wrong apartment.

        Newt cocked his head. “... Helloooo?”

        “Gracious, is this really your place?”

        “Yeah. Choice, right?” He swooped his arm. “C’mon in, _mi casa_ and all that shit Tendo used to say.”

        “Well, this is... post-modernism, that's for certain,” Hermann said as he gazed around the high ceiling.

        “This is prime real estate-- The architect, just--” He kissed his fingers. “-- top notch.”

        “ _Alice_ likes this, yes?”

        Newt wasn’t prepared to parse questions about his made-up human girlfriend, nor the Kaiju brain hidden in his bedroom.

        “ _Ngh._ Y-Yeah, why?”

        “Dunno. Guess it doesn't seem your aesthetic... or... well... _former_. Doesn't seem too cozy either.”

        “I lived in a concrete dorm room for a full decade of my life, I've forgotten what cozy living is.”

        “Yes well... I sort of cling to it for those precise reasons.” He looked around again, eyes moving along the hard edges. “Very masculine, isn't it? Shiny. _Clean._ ”

        Newt felt offense that wasn’t exactly… _his own._

        “Uh. What are you trying to say?” he was compelled to ask.

        Hermann raised his brows. “I'm just making conversation. Wondering who chose the decor. You have plenty of wall space too, and I don't see your vinyl toys or records or Arcade Fire tour posters anywhere.”

        “Pshh, yeah, when's the last time Arcade Fire went on tour?”

        “I just mean, you love collectible nostalgia.”

        Newt shook his head rapidly. “I don't. I don't look back. Not anymore. No. The future is... well, the future! And I got a feeling it's gonna be _a doozy._ ”

        His stomach lurched. That particular sentiment wasn't of his own mind, just… something that spilled out, like he’d elbowed a glass of water. He’d grown used to the lapses of control, but _damn._

        “Y-You can hang up your coat over there,” he said, trying to steady his pulse. This might be tougher than he thought. He kept his back turned, just feeling… _off._ Some days the Precursors in his head felt like a _literal_ hive. Thousands of crawly things buzzing angrily and making his brain feel hot, akin to eastern honeybees that cook wasps to death through vibrations.

        Tonight the heat was starting spread to further reaches of his body.

        Hermann’s footsteps resumed behind him. “So, how long have you lived _here?_ ”

        “Uh, since, _uhh…_ since I got with Alice,” Newt replied, drumming his fingers on the counter hoping the stimming would center him.

        “And, when was that precisely--”

        “Dude, you know how shit I am with calendar dates-- my dyscalculia--”

        “And yet you remembered every Kaiju attack, plus size and weight--”

        “That was a long time ago.”

        “Have Kaiju finally retracted their claws from you?” Hermann chuckled. Newt whipped around to look at him, attempting to psychically communicate the dreadful irony of the notion. “Should’ve thought of that before you decided to carry them with you forever.”

        _Say something stupid, and we smash that bottle over his head._

        “Hermann… as you say, I made this bed.” If only the drift had bestowed them with permanent telepathy rather than just fading echoes. He noticed the bag Hermann was still holding tight to his chest. “Uh. Can I take your purse?”

        “Oh.” Hermann laughed and held it outwards. “This is for you and Alice, I thought... uh... belated warming of houses, since I never... got that chance.”

        “Oh. Aw. That's uh…” There was a pang of guilt in his chest, yet also gratitude. “That's actually sweet. Thanks, Herm.”

        Hermann gave him a tight-lipped but warm smile. The kind that made Newt’s knees knock back in the day. And… still maybe did a bit.

        Newt dug into the bag to distract himself from being alone and close to the man he’d been dying to be  _very much_ alone and close to.

        “Eyy, matching mugs… with N… and A…” Newt looked up at him. “I mean, we usually get our coffee from a cafe, but I’m sure we can figure something out for these,” he deflected, feeling more and more awkward with every lie. Deceiving his co-workers was nothing, but this level of dishonesty with someone he once had no secrets with was painful.

        “A tea party, perhaps.”

        Newt nodded slowly. “Maybe.”

        “Th-That was an _Alice in Wonderland_ joke, I suppose it fell a bit flat,” Hermann said, grinning sheepishly. _God, stop smiling, this is agonizing._

        “Oh, _a sense of humor_ – something you inherited from me, right?”

        “A bad one, yes,” Hermann replied with a teasing smirk.

        “Fuck me,” Newt sighed in frustration and then realized he’d spoken it out loud.

        “Pardon?”

        _Pardon?_ repeated the voices.

        And for once his Freudian slip wasn’t because of the hive.

        “The… The food!” he exclaimed. _Good save._ “I _totally_ forgot-- I wanted to have something prepared and it just-- it slipped my mind-- we usually order room service, this kitchen gets like zero action.”

        “Your apartment has room service?”

        “Yeah. Sweet, right?”

        “Mmm.” Hermann gave a gentle agreeing nod. One that was more supportive than impressed. Like… like he just wanted to be happy for him.

        _Drive. That. Wedge._

        It was like an intrusive thought. His hand wasn’t forced, per se, but Newt was compulsion in human form. Following blindly at times, like whatever told a bug to fly straight into the zapper. A reactionary and addictive personality, wearing $420 shoes.

        Tonight it was  _crucial_ for him to be more present inside his mind and body now that Hermann was in his company, and unwittingly in a vulnerable position. A majority of Newt’s recent years were a complete blur. If he dissociated now, who knows what would happen between then and when he came to.

        Newt yanked the phone off the wall mount and pretended to ask for ‘the special for two’. Truth was, the food had already been ordered. Compelled to buy the usual meal off the menu that he liked best, with no regard for Hermann’s tastes. Was it his own selfish nature? Was it the Precursors wanting to slight Hermann in a way? Showing the other man that the rift was larger than it appeared?

        Where Newt ended and the aliens started was getting _distressingly_ harder to determine. Like a new mental illness on top of his myriads of pre-drift conditions. _Fuck._

        “Can I get you a drink?” Newt offered, after hanging up.

        “Ah, yes, please.”

        “Cool, I have a bottle of a damn fine _syrah_.” Newt flashed finger guns and headed to the cabinet.

        “Wine?” Hermann asked.

        “ _Uh, duh._ ”

        “I thought you were more of a liquor man.”

        “Dude, tastes change.” In all honesty, yes, it wasn’t Newt’s favorite by a mile, but he could tolerate it with ease. He often had the impulse to drink to excess, something he only just recently suspected wasn’t his own desire but one embedded by the hive. He needed just enough booze to calm his anxiety, as a shot would make him susceptible to alien influence. He poured and raised the glass. “Also, I’m a classy motherfucker now.”

        ---

        There was a knock on the door, and Hermann nearly spilled his wine in surprise. Newt held up a finger and half-jogged to the door.

        “Hey, in here, in here, thanks, pal,” Newt said, and the delivery man wheeled in a cart. “Oh uh, this is my old coworker, from back in the day, came by to visit.”

        “Oh, I was curious if you had a guest,” said the man who Newt never took the time to know the name of. “You usually don’t order for two.”

        Newt was mortified. Or. Well, the things in his head were.

        “ _Nope--_ Yeah-- I figured we’d have the same thing-- _he’s_ not so particular, are you?”

        “No. I manage alright.”

        “Well, it’s always nice to have a company, isn't it,” he said and Newt handed him a generous tip, hoping he’d get the hint and stop asking questions. “Oh, _thank you,_ Doctor.”

        Newt waved his hand. “ _Yeah, yeah, go,_ buy yourself something nice.”

        “My goodness, that’s fast delivery,” Hermann said as the man left.

        “Maybe I get priority service. ‘Cause I _make it rain._ ” Newt rubbed his finger together, and then lifted the domed lid.

        Hermann gasped, then gave a small laugh. “Oh, my word, _how did you know_?”

        “Know what?”

        “That I’d been craving _Brathähnchen auf Linsen._ ”

        “Great minds think alike, right?” Accidental score for Newt. He could nearly picture the Precursors grumping.

        ---

        The thrall was present but at a low volume, almost as if it were biding its time. Letting Newt have some slack for once. Watching what he’d do. Somehow that was more intimidating, like he was being _tested._

        _Distance,_ it insisted in firm yet hushed tones. And so, distance was what he gave, dinner settings on far opposite sides of the table. Hermann had laughed, saying they’d have to shout conversation across the echoey room.

        “Dude, it’s my house, I’m head of the table,” Newt parried. “And I don’t like to turn my head while I’m eating.”

        Hermann gave another chuckle, but the smile faded when he realized Newt wasn’t kidding. Judging from the familiar expression, Newt would bet money that Hermann was recognizing aspects of his own chauvinistic father in his old lab partner.

        _Good. He’s withdrawing._ Newt could feel the hive’s approval in his veins; that delicious chemical rush, patting him on the head like a _good boy_. Most of the meal was eaten in silence, and though it really did _suck_ that things had to be this way, it was less of a strain on Newt’s body. Maybe Hermann would simply bail from disillusionment.

        But of course not. If Hermann could be summed up in one word, it was ‘ _determined’_.

        “So, I gather that sudden calls out of town are… expected?” he asked.

        Newt looked up from his food. “What?”

        “You said it was for her job, so I… assume you find yourself suddenly alone many a night. For… unpredictable amounts of time?”

        Hermann was chipping away at the facade, finding weaknesses in Newt’s excuses for distance. And the relief he felt in being exposed wrestled with the fear he sensed from the Precursors. They were _demanding_ to take the reigns now.

        “It really depends,” Newt said nonchalantly. Hermann was boring holes into him with his gaze, one of melancholy, as if wondering why Newt hadn’t asked for company.

        “What... What does Alice do anyhow?”

        “Oh. Oh you... want to talk about Alice?” he replied with a tinge of ire, holding back a grimace.

        “Well... I do feel... like I want to... know about your significant other, and support you,” Hermann said cautiously. “You never talk about her in detail.”

        “Maybe that's karma for keeping me and Vanessa strangers,” said that impulsive voice again.

        “Oh. We're bringing up Vanessa now.” Hermann’s tone was resigned, not combative like Newt was once used to. Hermann took an awkward sip of wine.

        Despite the wall that needed to be built, the love for his friend still burning like a wildfire inside him singed his heart.

        “I'm making a joke, Hermann, _jokes_ , we joke about our failures. ‘Cause then no one can hurt us.”

        “You know that's a sore spot for me. Amicable, and we're happy, but it's sore.”

        Newt took a lengthy drink from his glass, hoping Hermann would move onto something else.

        “So,” Hermann started, shifting his weight in the chair. “You don't want to talk about Alice, that's... _fine_ too. I just--- so much of the Vanessa drama was due to you and I being... _estranged,_ in our way. So.” His eyes flicked up. “I... Am I wrong in thinking that you and I are still... c-close?”

        _God, I wish,_ Newt thought.

        _Crush his spirit,_ the voices said.

        “Listen. Love ya, buddy, but... I only have time for one person.” An epiphany struck Newt’s mind. “Y'know... the one I'm _sleeping with_ at night.”

        “You're…” He squinted. “Is that a euphemism?”

        “Uh _yeah._ How old are you?” Newt scoffed.

        “Since when do you... have sex? With _women?_  Or equate it with maturity?”

        Newt let out a tired laugh. “Dude, you're killing me here. Like... I need you to figure this out on your own, I can't hold your hand.”

        He knew Hermann knew he was gay. He knew Hermann knew he'd never slept with anyone. Numerous discussions aside, they’d shared a mind once. He was spelling out a goddamned cry for help to the one man who could understand it and Hermann was just...

        “Right... Fluidity. We did talk about that,” Hermann said softly.

        ... _Taking it all at face value_ \--- God, what a good man he'd grown into. Newt wished the stubborn stick-in-the-mud who balked at every minute change and called out Newt’s bullshit was still there for once.

        “Keep things in the past,” Hermann continued, pushing food pensively along his plate. “So… what have you… been up to?”

        “Work,” Newt said flatly, before shoveling more food into his mouth.

        “As we all are. I meant… I am still a bit fuzzy on the specifics of just _what_ you do at Shao Industries.”

        “ _That’s classified.”_

        Hermann tilted his head in disbelief. “Even for me?”

        “Why would it be declassified for _you?”_ Newt said casually, staring him down, unblinking. Hermann shirked back and his jaw tensed up. “Just because you tell me about your little PPDC projects doesn’t mean I’m obliged to.”

        “R-Right. I’m sure there’s… non-disclosures...”

        Newt sucked at keeping things under wraps, always crowing to those who would listen. Hell, he told a mob boss government secrets once upon a time just because the guy was kind of hot, and Newt wanted him to think he was cool. But the mindjack made him bite his tongue, both metaphorically and, on occasion, quite literally.

        “Dinner is… quite good,” Hermann said, nerves in his voice as he fell into less personal small talk.

        “Yeah. Five-star chef in house, German expat.” Newt sighed, feeling no enthusiasm for all of the decadent things his overlords had thrown into his lap. He would love to go back to cafeteria food and thrifted clothes and a lumpy mattress under loud pipes, so long as he was curled up against Hermann again.

        Despite keeping all focus on eating and staying in control, he could actually feel the disappointment wafting off the other man.

        “Don’t worry, Herm, I got dessert in the fridge too.”

        Hermann’s eyes drifted up and he flashed the smallest of earnest smiles.

        ---

        God. His mouth. Newt couldn’t tear his gaze away as Hermann licked cream off his fingers and then his lips. His eyes burned, as well as his chest -- _Christ,_ it was always hypnotizing to watch the man speak and now Newt wished that mouth of his was doing other things. Very, _very_ close.

        The pressure worsened and Newt turned away, grabbing the wine bottle and glass and heading to the sunken living room. Just to remove himself from Hermann’s vicinity, like his therapists had urged back when the man’s face made Newt irrationally irritated instead of… _this._

        “May I pour myself something of my own?” Hermann asked from the kitchen. “More than one glass of red wine gives me a bit of a headache.”

        “Oh. Yeah, uh-- knock yourself out, dude, I’m rich as fuck.” Newt topped off another wine glass, not feeling a quelling of his neurosis as much as he’d wanted.

        “Yes. They… They really do seem to be paying you well. I’m still on government salary but… I don’t ask for much.”

        “Yeah, you never really did dream big, did you?”’

        Newt cringed a bit, suspecting that was more a slip into his usual caustic personality than any sway of alien mind control.

        “No. I seem to… fall in with eventually _glamourous_ people, though by accident, don’t I?”

        “I thought you _didn’t_ want to talk about Vanessa.”

        “I’m not ‘talking’ about her, I just found it a bit humorous. Or… troubling.”

        “What?”

        “Oh…” Hermann sat down next to him. “I-It’s… No, it’s nothing.” The size of the gulp he took from his tumbler surprised Newt.

        There was a prolonged silence as the two held their respective glasses to their lips, sipping pensively, tension palpable.

        Newt compulsively cleared his throat. He’d never felt so sweaty.

        “Dude, I’m… burning up,” Newt mumbled, taking off his blazer.

        “Yes, you were always running hot in our freezing cold lab,” Hermann said with amusement. “I’ve been wondering how you can _stand_ these three piece suits.”

        “Dress for the job you want,” Newt parried.

        “So… a wealthy b-movie villain?”

        “Uh, no, like Tony Stark, jerk.”

        “More like Sam Rockwell’s character.”

        “ _No.”_ Newt was somewhat scandalized by how accurate that comparison had become.

        “Tony Stark wore band t-shirts, I thought that was what you _used_ to be going for.”

        “It’s been ten years dude, I’m not that wannabe piece of shit hipster anymore. _No one liked him anyway.”_

        “Well. I… I quite liked him. I mean… I like _you._ Regardless.”

        “R-Really?”

        “Why do you even have to ask?”

        _The wedge, Newton._

        “Well, _anyway,_ I’m not in this field to be liked. I’m in it to live comfortably and have everything I ever wanted after slaving away for the war effort. Not only for me, but for dad back in the states.” Newt shook his head. “Honestly. I know when I was young and dumb I was an anti-capitalist, but that’s the fucking world. We’re living in it. And people like us -- _geniuses_ ; we can either live miserably or live our best life, because mortality is the _only_ absolute. Shao Industries is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

        Newt downed the rest of his drink and set it loudly on the table. There was a pause and then Hermann did the same.

        “So are… are you going to _ask me_ how I’ve been or should I take that initiative myself?” Hermann asked. Newt could sense the spite in his voice, and he didn’t exactly blame him.

        “Dude I’m… My mind is so scattered. This is why… This is why I just… I don’t have the brain power…”

        “Are you off your meds?”

        As a matter of fact, Newt wasn’t on anything anymore. Even reaching for his pills often resulted in disaster. They assured him time and time again, _you don’t need those. We can make you perfect. Better than before. You’ve never felt anything like we can make you feel._

        “No, dude, I-- I’m on…” He tried to fight the lie. “I’m _on_.”

        Compromise.

        “Job stress,” Hermann sighed. “I hear you. I… I feel like I’m doing more now than I was in the most dire days of war.”

        “Yeah… Yeah I hear ya. I… thought you’d _retire_ by now. Though… guess they really didn’t give us much of a severance package for _saving the goddamn world_.” He gave a small chortle but Hermann’s face remained downcast.

        “Do you… Do you think about it as much as I do?”

        “What, retirement? No.”

        “Not that. Newt. I mean… everything we went through in that final week. And… that night.”

        Newt swallowed hard as everything came flooding back to him. The memories were there in the back of his mind, always, but existing behind fogged up glass. And it was as if Hermann had wiped it clean, and Newt saw their past staring him in the face.

        “That night, I thought... everything was going to be perfect and beautiful because we'd be together. In a.... _new way._ And then... things got... _complicated_... and once the dust settled... you pulled away from me. I thought our happiest days were ahead of us… I didn’t realize we… we’d already lived them.”

        Hermann’s eyes were welling up and Newt found it hard to breathe. Proximity aside, they hadn’t been so emotionally close in years. Something had its grip tight around Newt’s vocal chords, urging him not to speak. Or. Or to do something. _Just put an end to this._

        He hadn’t sensed such mixed messages before, like too many voices were talking over each other. Newt clutched his knee, trying to keep himself focused.

        “Newton,” Hermann turned quickly and placed his hand over Newt’s.

        A shudder went up Newt’s arm, and they both took a breath in sync. Hermann’s grip squeezed slightly, like an involuntary flex. His gaze darted to their hands, before resting back on Newt, brow furrowed with concern.

        Newt let out a small sigh and Hermann rubbed his hand with his thumb, tender and reassuring.

        “I… I don't want you to ever think I would hold that against you either,” Hermann said. “I’m sure you had your reasons. Fifteen years ago we couldn't stand each other... Things change, they're... _fluid_ , as we mentioned before.” His voice became shakier with every word and breath. Newt’s own emotions starting to churn. “I just... Lately, I've been in a panic about it. We're getting older. Another decade _flew by_ and I want to spend the rest of my time with you, even if we aren't... _together_ in the way we once wanted to be. I--”

        The voices boomed in his mind, drowning out Hermann's speech, all giving conflicting orders like the hive itself had lost its collective connection. Hermann was saying something important, the look in his eyes was one of desperation, one of letting out years of emotions, and Newt _couldn't hear a damn thing._ His own breathing quickened and he dug his nails into his knee trying to focus on reading Hermann's lips. His mouth. _God._

        Hermann's demeanor changed to one of confusion. He could read the words now: Newt? Newton?

        Newt interrupted him with a kiss. He felt his heart leap into his throat. Hermann’s lips tasted like grenadine and whiskey, two of Newt’s favorite things-- three, now, counting the man himself. The drift bleed had been so extensive, Hermann had come out on the other side of it with quirks that once belonged to Newt himself, and vice versa. Though… Newt’s sense of self was fading day by day. It was hard to tell what was him, what was Hermann, and what was _a third party._

        Newt pulled away and Hermann seemed in a daze. “I don't want to talk,” Newt whispered. Instead of the drone of the hive, he could feel a different sensation pulse through him. It was intense and familiar, the nostalgic aspect of it catching him off guard.

        “Yes... You and I exist beyond words, don't we?”

        Another kiss, deeper this time, the two savoring all of it. The blood rushing in his ears grew louder as Newt’s heart began to race. He felt buzzed… so damn buzzed, so damn _good._ He… This… _Wow._

        Hermann nearly shoved him away with a jolt. “Newton, good lord.”

        “What?”

        “A-Alice, what about Alice?” He was rigid and wide-eyed, like he’d been dunked in ice water.

        _Fuck._

        “Oh my god--” Hermann touched his own lips, horrified by what his mouth had done. “We can't--”

        “Alice... She's gone. I mean, she doesn’t live here anymore. We broke up. A long time ago.”

        Hermann gaped at him for a second and then he slumped back. “Newt. Why didn't you tell me?”

        “I didn't... I didn't want to tell you. I felt like a loser. I'm a huge fucking loser. Fronting like I’m a rockstar just to keep people from knowing I’m crumbling.”

        His eyes watered. It was true. He was losing a battle he didn’t even intend on fighting. Because it was just easier that way. Sometimes resisting too much made the vessels in his eye burst, or a heavy nosebleed, or simply just searing pain that made him lose all focus. And the hivemind rewarded him for good behavior. And _God_ … his deficient brain had never tasted so much dopamine.

        That is until he tasted Hermann again.

        “Newt... I... I don't know if this ship has sailed. But. If you'd told me sooner, I would've been by your side in a heartbeat.” He nodded reassuringly. “ _A heartbeat.”_

        Newt would do quite anything to feel Hermann’s pulse again. He leaned in, grasping for Hermann’s wrist, searching for that spot, falling into another kiss, needing him more than he ever needed ‘Alice’.

        Hermann broke away again. “Newt…”

        “Y-Yeah?”

        “Your couch is... horrid.”

        “ _What?”_

        “How can a human being possibly sit here longer than twenty minutes? That second-hand couch in the lab was luxurious compared to this.”

        “It's aesthetic, man... form over function.”

        Hermann laughed. “Is... your bed much more comfortable?”

        “You... You wanna take this... to the bedroom?” Newt asked cautiously.

        He had prepared for this -- well, not this _exact_ situation, more like if Hermann had wanted the grand tour. ‘Alice’ was hidden away behind a curtain and some strategically placed boxes. If you didn’t look too hard, it was easily mistaken as an extra storage area. And he knew Hermann wouldn’t snoop.

        Hermann rolled his eyes, which were still a bit puffy from emotion. “I want to be comfortable. My body is not what it used to be. It wasn't much to begin with. In many ways. I'm 46 years old and I’m…”

        “Still gorgeous,” Newt blurted out.

        Hermann flashed that shy smile, the one that was like a burst of sunshine and Newt felt fireworks in his chest.

        _Watch it._

        ---

        “Sometimes I feel I move easier after a drink,” Hermann said as he glided up to Newt’s bedroom despite the precarious steps. Newt followed, almost in a trance. He watched Hermann lean on his cane and kick off his shoes, like he used to do back when they had a nightly routine. As he turned to look back, Newt could see his eyes were glossy again.

        The demands being sent to him began conflicting again, some sounding annoyed, or resigned, or spiteful rather than threatening _._

        “You OK, buddy?” Newt asked gently.

        “Better than.” Hermann smiled. “I just… I’ve been spending so much time believing we were over. As friends, I mean, I’m an adult, I can stomach romantic rejection.”

        “Yeah, you’re uh… much better at that than me.”

        Hermann gave a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about what’s happened to you, I really am.” He put his hand on Newt’s shoulder. “Did you love her, Newt?”

        “I’m not ready to talk about Alice,” Newt deflected hoarsely, as he prayed _she_ wouldn’t stir in the tank that was a mere two feet away.

        “I understand.” Hermann nodded and then gave Newt a soft kiss on the cheek that made him tremble down to his toes. As he pulled back his eyes swept around the room. “Not ready to get rid of her decorating taste either, eh?”

        “I-It’s a… It was a collaboration.”  
  
        “I’m still trying to find you in all this,” Hermann said, pulling off his sweater. “Not a single _Japanime_ figurine in sight.”

        “Yeah, well… I hope you do find me,” Newt muttered as he slipped out of his Italian loafers.

        “Now c’mon,” Hermann took a step towards him and then thumbed at Newt’s shirt collar. Newt impulsively gulped. “What's with these garish suits?"

        Newt paused. “What?”

        He gave a small scoff. “I much preferred your skinny-jeaned Daniel Faraday look -- though, _literally_ anything is better than _this.”_

        “Excuse me?” Newt laughed, partially offended, partially flattered.

        “It’s worse than your tattoos. And I’ve missed hating them,” he teased before lounging on the bed with a content sigh.

        In reality, there was another reason why Newt preferred long sleeves these days. He didn’t have see the Kaiju on his skin, tools of the beings that he knew occupied his mind. Which made him no different from the creatures he once studied. Newt undid his collar chain and slowly unbuttoned his designer shirt. The eagerness faded from Hermann’s face.

        “Second thoughts, darling?” he asked.

        “About _what?”_ Newt asked nonchalantly.

        “Us.”

        “Never,” Newt said before tearing off the rest of the shirt. Who really gave a shit about a piece of fabric that cost more than his first car when _Hermann Gottlieb was in his bed._

        Hermann clasped a hand over his mouth as a button flew off, and began laughing. “Newt! _Dear lord,_ alright, I’m sorry for doubting you.”

        As he climbed onto the bed, Newt could sense something akin to jealousy coming from the tank behind the curtain.

        Newt settled next to Hermann against the headboard, kissing him again. It felt nice; sitting so close, skin brushing past skin, felt good, felt natural, felt familiar and safe already. God, when was the last time Newt felt safe? Hermann radiated heat -- and what a novelty it was, to feel the warmth of another person. Of someone you _loved._

        It was reminiscent of those countless occasions they sat on the lab couch, or even in a dorm room bed, and talked for hours and hours about everything and nothing, either looking for an excuse to be civil or to make some kind of bodily contact. Before the drift made things clear. Before the Precursors tore even the simplest things away from them. What a double-edged sword.

        But now, they could make up for lost time. Nearly a decade of it. Newt had no idea how long this window could last, if he could fight the thrall over him, if this was a proverbial one night stand, or if he could have Hermann for as long as they had left… There was such guilt he could not verbally convey over knowing all these things his partner did not. Those beautiful eyes gazed at him with no knowledge that Newt was a sleeper agent of sorts. His masters hid their true intentions from Newt. It was hard to know what was coming, or _when._ Only that it would be catastrophic.

        “Newt…” Hermann started, breaking Newt from his thoughts. “Did you ever… _feel_ me?”

        “What?”

        “In the echoes of our link… Some days I wondered, if I sneezed, if could you tell,” he said with a small laugh, but then looked soberly into Newt’s eyes. “Because... some days I... felt you.”

        _What does he know? What did he feel?_ the voices shouted.

        “Maybe I was… feeling the both of you…” Hermann continued, looking mildly embarrassed. “Large… rushes of… dopamine, or something.”

        Hermann had linked up with the Kaiju brain too. Newt had always wondered if his possession was a matter of Newt drifting twice, or that Hermann was just too iron-willed to be taken by an otherworldly influence.

        “Y-Yeah, that was probably me and Alice…” Newt said quietly. The hivemind allowed it, but not a further explanation.

        Hermann nodded with no enthusiasm and almost appeared a bit _crushed._

        Newt held his face. “Hey. None of that compares to you.” Hermann teared up again, and Newt closed his eyes as he leaned into his soft lips.

        The kisses deepened, sloppier and more heated as things progressed. Memories were triggered by that earthy scent that always wafted from Hermann’s skin. His hands were gentle as they slowly started to explore Newt’s back, his arms, his chest. Newt melted into each of those kisses, into each of those touches, grateful for Hermann to take the lead. He could barely give his consent whenever Hermann asked him for it; everything felt both too much and too little at the same time, knowing this could very well be all that they could ever have.

        Hermann then began kissing away from his mouth and down Newt’s throat. Newt could only lean back to offer easier access, his breath getting shakier by the moment, and his arms resting on Hermann’s shoulders. For how good this all felt, he found himself almost paralyzed, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

        “Careful, Herm, you’ll leave a mark,” Newt laughed breathlessly as Hermann nibbled at his ear, feeling dizzier with every word.

        “What, no one will know it was me. Besides, don’t you want your coworkers to think you’re still getting some action?”

        “It’s unprofessional.”  
  
        “Since when does Dr. Newton Geiszler care about professionalism? You’re a professional _arse_.”

        “ _You’re_ a… _mmmn…_ ”

        Newt’s head was swimming but things also felt… so strangely  _clear_. Like there wasn’t a subroutine of someone else's much louder thoughts running through his head. Only two people existed in this space… two men fated for love.

        “Newt?” Hermann cooed into his ear between neck kisses.

        “Mmhmm…”

        “You know what’s missing right?”

        Newt chuckled. “Oh. _Yeah._ Totally. _Maestro,_ play Hermann’s Playlist,” Newt said to the home AI system.

        “ _My_ playlist?” Hermann asked, rising up and giving him a look. The music started and Newt could see the nostalgia fill his eyes. “Oh. This song,” Hermann breathed.

        “Yeah. _This_ song.”

        “I can't believe you remembered.”

        “I've been in your head, dude.”

        “I’ll… always remember how you said this song felt good.”

        “ _You_ feel better.”

        He managed to slip his hand underneath Hermann’s shirt, feeling his back and the muscles shift there, warranting a soft moan from the man as he rested his head on Newt’s shoulder.

        They rolled around lazily, and Newt was lost in the best way as he stimmed off both Hermann’s body and the bassy rhythms of songs they loved. The sounds surrounded him. Sheets moving, breathy gasps, familiar and practiced motions from both him and his partner.

        “Newton… I’ve… missed you…” Hermann mumbled quietly as Newt pulled him close in an almost desperate embrace, feeling Hermann’s heart beat against him, in time with his own. The reverberation was intoxicating. If anything was going to consume him he wanted it to be this moment.

        It’d been almost a decade since they’d been intimate at all. Before the hive first started to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, and eventually replaced Hermann’s all together. In fact, the voices didn’t truly start until Hermann took leave off their school touring route to deal with his… family issues.

        When Hermann returned to the Shatterdome, freshly separated, Newt had already applied for and been accepted to his new job at Shao. It was an impulse at the time, and Newt had been battling those his whole life. He just had no idea it wasn’t his own. Hermann was gutted, and Newt’s mind reasoned the man _just didn’t understand._

        _He’s selfish,_ it continued. _He wants you to live off peanuts like always. Isn’t it time to really be a rockstar?_

        And of course, Newt, a man who operated mostly on spite, was convinced.

        How easy it was to forget how good you had it. Sometimes absence makes the heart grow fonder, and that was definitely Hermann’s experience, but for Newt something new and shiny ensnared him, a life metaphorically sexier than the one Hermann was content to lead. Fame. Fortune. Fashion.

        It wasn’t until here, right now, in this bed meant for two, that Newt truly remembered the _bliss_ that was real human affection _._ Hermann knew every bit of precise pressure to apply in every place Newt had longed to be touched, despite it being their first time getting _this_ intense.

        “Yes, I know _that_ can't change, can it?” Hermann murmured after Newt let out another moan.

        Maybe they could  _still_ ghost drift, something Newt assumed had been lost over the decade since they’d melded minds, but physicality aside he felt so in sync with Hermann as if they were one.

        “God these pants are… they’re way too tight,” Newt laughed. “Uh, never did this in my jeans.” The thrall made his arms feel rigid again. It seemed to react whenever they paused. Hermann raised an eyebrow.

        “May I?” Hermann smirked, and hovered his hands over the belt.

        He nodded, not trusting himself with words, and Hermann’s deft fingers worked the buckle open.

        Newt’s chest rose and fell sharply with each deep breath, his galloping heartbeat making his hand shake as it reflexively covered his face.

        “Alright?” Hermann asked.

        “Yeah.” Newt smiled. “Perfect,” was all he could say.

        “Do you remember when we used to sleep stripped down to our undergarments, just to feel each others skin?”

        “Yeah?”

        “Since things are... different now... with fluidity and all that…” Hermann swallowed. “Do you… think you’re ready to… y’know… with _me?”_ He sounded more flustered about it than Newt anticipated.

        Newt's breath caught and a thousand voices screamed:  _No._

        But not one of them seemed to be his own.

        Control had been easier to seize this night. The hive did not speak in unison, the chaos of it made it impossible for Newt to even obey if he wanted. Maybe... it was something about Hermann. Something about their bond, and their bodies, and their trust, and--

        Could sex with the man he was in love with be the final surge to break the mindjack?

        He nodded.

        “Do you have protection still?”

        “Uh… what?”

        “From when… you were still with Alice?”  
  
        “Oh. Um. No.”

        “No? Oh. Well, it’s not as if I keep any in my wallet either. Guess we’ll have to take different precautions then.”

        “Y-Yeah, sure…”

        _Don’t do this, Newton,_ said a voice that wasn’t his own mind.

        “You’re still trembling, darling, are you alright?”

        “N-Nerves,” Newt replied in earnest. That wasn’t the whole story either. It was just the most intense rush to feel _anything_ again without the use of a neural bridge. Especially after a virtual decade of emotional seclusion.

        “Oh.” Hermann’s brow furrowed. “Newt… I have a question, and you don’t have to answer.”

        “OK…”

        “ _Did_ you and Alice have sex?”

        Newt’s definition of sex was quite nebulous, maybe not the norm. And Hermann understood, unspokenly, because they’d drifted and melted together so beautifully.

        “Uh… I mean… If you _squint…_ ” Newt replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie.

        _Don’t kid yourself. It’s better,_ that voice nagged again.

        Maybe it was true, drifting  _was_ more satisfying in so many goddamn ways. But it wasn’t Hermann. And simply kissing Hermann felt like heaven. Because _they were in love._

        “Am I going to be your first?” he asked gently. Newt nodded. Hermann leaned down to kiss him again. “Then we shall go ever so slow.”

        And slow they went, albeit through a layer of fabric, and yet it was glorious all the same. Hermann’s touch, Hermann’s kisses, Hermann’s soft form, so close and so warm… Newt’s brain was going to drown in all that good, good dopamine, and no matter how loud the voices in his head got, he wasn’t going to stop.

        All the while Hermann being so attentive, asking if things were alright, changing it up when he got a no, but flashing a smile when the answer was yes.

        As they got tangled in bedsheets, one thought flashed through Newt’s brain: he usually tore up his bed in his sleep, suffering through nightmares and restlessness. This was a much better, much nicer way to do it.

        He could hear Hermann's gasps and Newt nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, feeling Hermann’s pulse on his lips and trying to convey all the words that kept getting trapped in his throat through actions instead. And he didn’t need the drift to tell him that Hermann appreciated every second of it.

        “Hold on, darling, let me catch my breath,” Hermann eventually said. “Admittedly cardio has not been part of my routine.”

        Hermann propped himself up and gazed down at Newt. They both took heavy inhales, trying to clear the fog, and just have a moment to take in their intimate state of dishevelment and near total undress. It’d been so long since they gazed at each other at all.

        Hermann’s fingertips tenderly traced outlines of the tattoos on Newt’s chest and midriff, and the shivers radiating from them were nearly overwhelming. Hermann let out a few breaths that almost made Newt believe he could feel them too. Up and down, winding paths, until the fingertips rested at his waistband. Hermann’s digits slipped under it gently, and waited, needing permission. The Precursors started to frenzy as if he’d kicked a beehive and Newt could hardly move his head to nod. He prayed whatever remained of the psychic link between them was enough to transmit a yes, _yes, please._

        “I’m going to take it off, alright?” Hermann whispered. He tugged slightly at the elastic again, as if asking for more explicit consent.

        A groan emitted from Newt, one he didn’t expect, nor one from ecstasy, and he seized Hermann’s wrist. _The hivemind was making its last-ditch effort._

        “N-No?” Hermann asked. Newt tried to hold back the words clawing their way up his throat. He stared wild-eyed and his grip compulsively tightened. “Newton, are you alright?”

        “S-Sss… Stop.” Newt tried to fight back, and he could feel that heat behind his eyes like someone was pressing on them. Thankfully, his clasp loosened.

        “Darling, if you’ve changed you mind, just say so,” Hermann said gently. “I just want _you,_ not anything in particular.”

        Newt’s heart soared. He’d never experienced someone gazing at him with such love in their eyes. His guard fell.

        “ _Put your clothes back on,”_ the voice ordered.

        And Hermann, dear sweet Hermann, nodded and rose from the bed. It wasn’t what Newt truly wanted, but the power in which the aliens’ control was starting to surge through his muscles was _terrifying_. And he didn’t want to strangle Hermann in a moment of passion.

        “Newt, sweetheart, I…” Hermann sat on the edge of the mattress as he pulled his trousers on. “I think what we have is profound and special. And even though the drift echoes may have faded a bit, I understand you. More than you’ll ever know. _Well,_ ” he chuckled, “perhaps you _do_ know. Deep down. If you are fluid, that’s fine, if you only sleep with women, that’s fine too... but you don’t have to force anything just because I’m in love with you.”

        “Thanks,” Newt whispered.

        Hermann beamed again, perfect and more twinkling than Newt even remembered. “To be quite honest, I’m just looking forward to falling asleep in your arms again. Like old times.”

        _You may keep him if you wish_ , said the voices. _But next time you don’t comply, we will kill him in his sleep._

        “Maybe… Maybe you should leave,” Newt said suddenly.

        The twinkling look vanished. “Oh. _Oh?_ ” He pulled on his shirt, and looked confused and a bit… embarrassed. “Did I… Did I misread things, _oh_ … This was just a rebound sort of thing, wasn’t it? That’s why you’re dipping your toe into all this.”

        “Hermann, listen...”

        He grabbed the cane and got up quickly. “No, whatever the case-- I-If you want space I’m certainly OK with tha--”

        Hermann tripped slightly on the rug and bumped into the covered tank. It made a loud _glub_ , movement apparently displacing the brain. He let out a small yelp and impulsively swung his cane to hit it. It caught the fabric, ripping the curtain from it’s securements.

        _No._

        “What-- in the--” Hermann gasped, taking a step back.

        “Oh. Oh-- no. N-No, _no, no,_ ” Newt’s mouth was moving a mile a minute as the Precursors panicked.

        But this… this was an opportunity for Newt himself. This… _This_ was when Hermann would figure it out. The love of his life would save him.

        _Say something, you imbecile, don’t let him catch on!_

        “This is Alice?” Hermann asked with horror. “The br-brain from… Is this _the one_ that was confinsc---”

        “Yes. And Hermann, I need you to listen--” He choked slightly on the words.

        “You're... You're... mind... _shagging_ a Kaiju?”

        Uh... uh oh. Newt had hoped Hermann would come to a different conclusion. But maybe that Kaiju Groupie label he already despised had really come to bite him in the ass.

        “I knew you romanticized the drift but my God, Newton... this is... _beyond_.” Hermann stared him down. “There was never a woman occupying your time or y-your heart. There was never a reason we couldn’t have spent any time together, was there?”

        “This is not…” His jaw clenched unexpectedly, and the words couldn’t come out.

        “Is this... Is this because I wouldn't _drift_ with you again? I couldn't give you your ‘better than sex’…” He trailed off and swallowed hard.

        “N-No-- I...”

        “Then why? _Newt._ Are you _addicted_ to the drift?”

        “Hermann I... I can't control it. I can't... control myself... I'm _not_ myself.”

        “Yes. Yes, that's called addiction.”

        “No,” Newt repeated, fearful. Hermann was taking this the wrong way.

        “ _Yes it is,_ Newton,” he said between teeth. “I don't even _know_ how you go about treating one such as this.”

        _This is perfect. But this cannot leave this room,_ said the voices.

        “You... can't tell anyone,” Newt said. “It's... That'd be dangerous.”

        “What does that mean? You _won’t_ get help?” Hermann cried out.

        “I can’t.”

        Hermann’s gaze darted between Newt and ‘Alice’. “We could just… _get rid of it._ ”

        Newt wished that was all it took. That the possession would be severed by destroying the thing that had linked them in the first place. But Newt could tell… Feel it crawling through neurons. It was nesting inside him. It was in there, no matter what.

        “No,” he whispered.

        Hermann’s lips got tight. He took a breath, and then nodded, slow at first, then with purpose. “You'd... rather have  _this_ … _thing._.. than _me_. Alright. I see.”

        “Herm.”

        “No, no, I see, I'm not a damn fool.” Hermann looked away, taking tremulous breaths, as if steadying himself. He turned back, a tear dripping down his face. “And what if I drifted with you again? Would you have me then?”

        Newt couldn’t bear to look at the man. “No. God. Hermann--”

        _I don't know if you'd be infected like me,_ was what he wanted to say.

        But instead.

        Newt's head snapped upwards, outside of his control. “ _But how about a threesome, with me and Alice?”_

        Hermann scoffed, and shook his head. “You're disgusting!”

        The word pierced through Newt’s entire soul. Or what was left of it.

        “Firstly the thing I fear, then you want me _back at it_   with the thing that gave me my night terrors. _Every. Damn. Night._ ” Hermann’s voice creaked. “And now that Vanessa's out of my life, you're not even there to hold me when I wake up screaming. I have... _no one._ ” He paused for a moment. Then he held out his hand, his chin trembling. “Please, just leave this thing. Come home with me.”

        “I can't,” Newt rasped, knowing it'd mean certain death for Hermann.

        Hermann’s eyes flicked up at the ceiling and Newt could see them glistening. Another rattling breath escaped him. “Then you've made your choice. I hope it doesn't  _kill_ you. Because I cannot handle that loss. Not after...” He cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose, then began to walk away.

        Newt wanted to jump up but his muscles were locked. All he could do was grip the blankets. “Herm…”

        Hermann stopped, took a deep inhale, and then looked over his shoulder. “Get some help. Til then, I hope your girlfriend enjoys her present.”

        There again was the irregular rhythm of footsteps and cane, sounding more labored than before. A few curses as he shuffled with something. And then the door shut.

        Blood dripped out of his nose, down onto his bare tattooed stomach, making the Kaiju on his skin look more menacing than ever.

        “ _So?”_   Newt felt himself say and his gaze was forced to the tank like he was trapped in a nightmare beyond his control. “ _Now that that’s over. Can we have some real fun?”_

**Author's Note:**

>  **Sexual content spoilers:** Mostly it's all so vaguely implied and emotion focused that you can read it as anything, but there is consensual and intentional "over the clothes" stimulation happening for plot reasons. It's very short and you can skip it entirely by going from “Then we shall go ever so slow" to "A groan emitted from Newt".
> 
> SO THAT WAS A THING THAT HAPPENED AND I HOPE WE ALL LIVE AND I HOPE PR3 IS GOOD AND DOESN'T MURDER US. I might write some PR3 speculative fic + recovery stuff, and of course if you wanna read some super soft fluffy pre-PR1 Newmann head over to my other ongoing project.  
>    
> And, as a bonus, here's **[Hermann's playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/tommy-tonebender/playlist/3KFu7X1B4plByKxajHfxln?si=jrRCu3OqSiidLAUprzOMhA)**.
> 
> Thanks to [nathanlaj](https://twitter.com/nathanlaj?lang=en) for a damn fine beta reading job, all my friends who cheered me one, and as well as [seaweedredandbrown](http://archiveofourown.org/users/seaweedredandbrown/pseuds/seaweedredandbrown) and [Coldharbour](http://archiveofourown.org/users/coldharbour) for helping me out because oh my god I mentally blue-screened countless times while writing the bedroom stuff because How Do????? I don't even know how smooches work. But I felt it was too important to the plot to gloss over.
> 
> Plugging [my main blog](http://television-for-dinner.tumblr.com/tagged/fic+stuff) and [my art/fanworks blog](http://tommytonebender.tumblr.com), cryptic message about checking my side bar, etcetera.


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